The Medieval Fantasy
by AuroraAustralice
Summary: A three part one-shot collection set in Medieval France where Draco Malfoy is the Lord of the Manor and Hermione Granger his maid.


_**The Medieval Fantasy**_

"He's awake Granger." Came the booming voice of Matron, Sinistra stopping Hermione from her scrubbing of the floor. "Go clean his room before he gets back! Hop to it girl!"

"Yes madam." Hermione said getting up and dropping a short bobbing curtsy at the old women direction and hurrying towards Lord Malfoi's room, her heart thumping with excitement.

Cleaning his room, that was the closest Hermione Granger could get to her Lord… she had for the past five years worked at the Malfoi Castle in France as a maid to pay of her parent's gambling and drinking debts and subsequently fallen in love with the brooding, enigmatic Lord of the manor.

Lord Malfoi she sighed under her breath or Drac as she called him in her dreams, was the son of the their cruel over lord Lucius Occuptus Malfoi who's reign had nearly brought the town of _les vergers de pêchers_ to its demise.

Drac had taken over the castle and all his father's lands two years ago when the Count died of alcohol poisoning during one of his famous orgies and turned a pathetic, poor, desolate land into a hub of agricultural, social, cultural activities. The pheasants and the gentry alike were greatly indebted to him as the lavish habits of his father was leaving the nobility's coffers full of dust and the pheasants dying of hunger. He was strict, having fought two wars the Lord like his manor functioning smoothly, with military precision.

The last year had been peaceful and abundant, reaping rich rewards for the farmers and filling gold back into the pockets of the Lords. Every morning the Lord went on his horse to inspect the villages and tally the books so that no discrepancies were there and while he was away Hermione had to clean his room for each night their unmarried Lord shared his bed with a new high society lady.

Hermione pushed open the ebony doors of his chambers and proceeded inside with her mop and duster, pulling the sheets of his bed and opening the curtains of the massive windows to let in the sunshine. His bed smelled like him, a musky mixture of woodsmoke and herbs… intoxicating it would have been to her if only it was not intermingled with the expensive, floral scent of a woman's perfume. Her Lord Malfoy was nearing twenty five and all the dowagers of the French and British ton alike were pushing their daughters to snare him. Lord Malfoy's wealth was the stuff of legend but he was not stupid, he bedded the greedy gold-diggers but never promised marriage or even betrothal.

Last night it had been Lady Rosalind of Westchester who was in _la pêchers_ on a holiday with her Mama, a hard, mercenary woman with only eyes for gold. Hermione's heart gave a painful thump as she thought of her doing with she wanted to do with Drac in this same bed.

Brusquely brushing aside her ridiculous feelings because she knew nothing could come from them but heartbreak she went on with her work, deftly remaking his bed and carefully slipping the scented, pressed sprigs of lavender under his pillow. Today he was hosting Lady Astoria and Daphne from the _Cannae_ royal court and she had overheard one of the grooms from the stables saying how Drac wanted to bed the beautiful and blond Astoria, she just wished he would marry soon and then Hermione could get rid of this silly infatuation. After all why would he look at her, their social stations were so far apart it was astronomical. He would never want her; she had no title or money

All the while she was lost in her thoughts she didn't hear the loud decisive footsteps of the Lord returning to his solar to dress. Rudely awakened by the sound of him clearing his throat, she jumped and blushed when she saw him. He looked positively sinful, she thought regarding him carefully from under her lashes.

His long windblown blond hair was caught up in a leather thong at the base of the neck, his tall, muscular body was clad in black breeches and a pure white shirt, his gleaming boot clad legs were braced apart and a long whipping baton was secured along with his sword around his lean hips. His dark blue eyes were expressionless as he looked down at her and Hermione wished she could have been just a bit taller, he clenched his square, unrelenting jaw, unconsciously throwing the scar across his cheek into sharp relief. Hermione longed to trace it and find out the story behind it but at the moment she could do without such thoughts as he glared at her like she was the lowest scum of the earth.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded coldly.

"C..Cle..Cleaning my Lord." She stammered out looking down at the fresh rushes she had strewn on the floor.

His expression didn't relax one iota. "What's your name?" he demanded his voice the same husky, raspy sinuous beat she had always imagined it to be.

"Hermione my Lord, I have worked here for five years."

"Look at me."

Hermione reluctantly lifted her eyes from the floor and looked at him, her breath catching in her throat as she looked at his full masculine glory and into the coldness of his eyes. The Lord Drac Malfoi could never be classified as handsome, no… such words were much to tame for him. He was a wild man trapped in the clothing of a gentleman. It showed in his eyes, the way they were always on high alert, as if he expected the enemy to spring forth from the shadows any second.

"Did you know I was coming back early today?" He said in his gravelly voice.

She just shook her head, afraid if she did open her mouth something inappropriate would come out. The air around them crackled with charged sexual energy, this made the Count's eyes grow wide.

Attraction?! To this mouse like little creature… never, not if Hades emerged. Drac liked his women like his horses, lean and preferably blond. Both of which this one was not, he thought critically looking at her over-generous curves and wild brown curls but she had a certain charm, a defiance that he had not seen ever before. Firmly pushing those thoughts out of his mind he yelled at her to get out.

Hermione ran out of Her Lords room, her heart thumping painfully as she thought about how he had looked over her and found her lacking, it was humiliating the way he assessed and dismissed her almost immediately.

She had truly made a mistake falling in love with the arrogant, ungentlemanly brute she thought angrily.

….


End file.
